Oblivious
by hulettwyo
Summary: An all human AU inspired by Avril Lavigne's Sk8er Boi. Is it possible to get a happy ending when the one you love is completely oblivious?
1. Chapter 1 - Out Of Dodge

An all human AU inspired by Avril Lavigne's Sk8er Boi.

Is it possible to get a happy ending when the one you love is completely oblivious?

Beta'd by the lovely Behind Blue Eyes. Any mistakes that remain are mine and not hers. Enjoy!

Oblivious

Chapter One – Out of Dodge

Today had been the day. The day William was going to ask Cecily to marry him. He'd asked her to accompany him to the Christmas party at the Bronze and had been overjoyed when she'd accepted. Buffy had helped him pick out the dark blue suit, had looped his tie into a perfect Windsor knot, and had fixed his hair. It had grown out quite a bit and his curls had fought the gel, but she'd finally managed to force them into an artfully styled, just-been-ravaged mop. He'd looked gorgeous – like chocolate covered sex on a stick – and any girl in her right mind would've jumped at the chance to have the hottest guy on the Sunnydale college campus down on one knee offering her his heart. Any girl except Cecily Bitch Queen Underwood, that was.

_"I do see you, William. That's the problem. Even with all the changes you've made, the fact remains… you're beneath me. You always were, and you always will be. You were a pleasant distraction for a while, a wrong side of the tracks boy to torment my father with, but it could never be more. I can't believe you didn't realize that."  
_

"And she told me that in front of the whole bleedin' party, Buffy! The whole party! Everybody we know was there. Absolutely everybody! Then she walked away and just left me kneelin' there like a complete prat. I can't go back there now, I can't. I'm the laughingstock of Sunnydale, the pathetic tosser that should've known better. Why would a woman like Cecily possibly want a wanker like me?"

Buffy held him as he sobbed out his heartbreak on her shoulder. It killed her to see him hurting like this and all she wanted to do was punch that bitch's face in. How dare she! How dare she treat him like shit on the bottom of her shoe after all he'd done for her! He'd completely changed everything about himself for that stuck up whore and apparently it still wasn't enough.

He snuffled against her damp shoulder and Buffy squeezed him a little tighter as he worked to get himself under control. She'd like nothing more than to see Miss Stuck Up Bitch brought as low as she'd managed to bring Spike. Almost two years he'd been chasing her, since their senior year of high school. He'd given up his music, shaved off his platinum locks, and completely changed his wardrobe… all for her. He'd gotten a job – a job he hated – and had sold his drum kit and guitars in order to get enough money to buy a decent car to take her out in while his beloved DeSoto sat moldering in Buffy's garage.

Buffy ached to tell him that Cecily was a bitch of the first magnitude and didn't deserve a guy as great as Spike, but she held her tongue. His pain was still too raw – too fresh – and saying anything against Cecily wouldn't help and would probably only make him angry, so she did what best friends do, she came up with a plan. She tightened her arms around him and murmured into his hair, "Let's get out of here, Spike. Just you and me. We'll go to LA. My dad has an apartment there and we can transfer colleges and get jobs and just put Sunnydale and all this crap behind us."

He lifted his tear-stained face and gave her a hard look. "You'd do that for me? Leave everythin' behind? Your Mum, your boyfriend? Are you sure?"

Buffy nodded and reached up to wipe the tears off his face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "Yeah, I'm sure. You're my best friend, and best friends help each other out. Mom won't have a problem with it as long as I'm still in school, and I broke up with Riley two days ago when I found out he was cheating on me. So it's just us, getting the hell out of Dodge and starting a new life. What do you say?"

A small sunny smile broke through the storm cloud of Spike's tears and he nodded. "I say hell yeah. Let's get our shit together and ditch this poxy little burg. LA, here we come!"

XX

XXXX

XX

"God, Spike! Are you allergic to picking up your dirty socks or what? I mean, seriously, the hamper is like RIGHT THERE! You can't manage to pitch them another two feet?"

His deep chuckle rolled through their shared bedroom. "Sorry, pet, but bloke here, you know. I think it's against the laws of maleness to put dirty togs in the hamper. That's what the little woman is for, yeah?"

Buffy threw him an exasperated scowl. "I'm your roommate and best friend, Spike. I am not your 'little woman' or your maid, so pick up your own damn socks!"

Spike held up his hands in surrender and backed away from the tiny irritated woman. "Sorry, luv. Didn't know it upset you that much. I'll just keep after my own bits and pieces from now on, all right?" He snatched up his dirty socks and a wayward t-shirt and tossed them into the hamper.

Buffy shook her head. "No, I'll still wash our clothes, Spike. You always use too much detergent and you don't sort them right, and remember how you shrank the first three loads you did wash? If you'd just get your clothes into the hamper, that would be a big help. I don't have time to chase them all over the apartment." She dumped her armload of clean clothes onto Spike's bed. "I'll let you put your own clothes away, though." He moved toward the pile as Buffy picked up the hamper of dirty clothes and started to exit the room. She turned back at the doorway and threw him a teasing smile. "And I mean actually folding them and putting them away… not just cramming them into the first available empty drawer in your dresser."

He muttered under his breath, "Yes, Mum," as he picked up a black t-shirt and shook it out before folding it carefully.

Buffy left him to it and started for the kitchen, dropping the hamper on the washer as she passed the laundry cubby in the hallway. There was still a load of dishes to wash and she had to leave for work in an hour. She filled up the sink with hot, soapy water and started feeding the soiled dishes into it as her mind wandered over to her favorite subject… Spike.


	2. Chapter 2 - House Full of Cats

Oblivious

Chapter Two – House Full of Cats

They'd been in LA almost five months now. Her father's apartment was only a one bedroom, so they'd been forced to share, but hey, their rent and utility bills were non-existent because Hank had offered to pay for everything. Buffy thought his fatherly concern over her welfare was too little too late, but she wasn't about to argue with a free apartment, especially one in an upscale LA neighborhood. They even had a garage big enough to hold Spike's behemoth of a car. At Buffy's gentle insistence, he'd sold the 'Cecily car' a month after they'd left Sunnydale and had used some of the money to buy himself a drum kit so he could get back into his music.

Spike had always been into music as far back as Buffy could remember. He'd joined the school band their seventh grade year as a percussionist and had turned into the best drummer the district had seen in years. He'd won several awards and had even picked up the state championship in a music competition during his tenth grade year. He'd also mastered the guitar and bass, all self-taught, but his first love was the drums. Buffy had spent many an hour sitting in his basement listening to him pound away on the kit his father had given him for Christmas… the same one he'd sold to buy the 'Cecily car.' It had been both a joy and a torture for her to be near him when he was playing. It had been a joy because she loved to be with him when he was engaged in something that brought him so much pleasure, but it had been a torture because when Spike practiced he wore nothing but a pair of skimpy gym shorts.

She'd positioned her chair in a spot that would allow her the best possible view of his tight and toned body, watching the muscles of his arms, legs, and torso bunch and flex as he pounded out a rhythm. More than once she'd wished her fingertips… or possibly her tongue… could've followed the beads of sweat that had formed on the smooth column of his throat and had dripped sensually down his sculpted chest and washboard abs to soak into the waistband of his shorts. She'd gone home after every one of Spike's practice sessions with soaked panties and an ache low down in her belly that the massaging shower head in her bathroom did little to alleviate.

He'd formed a band with a few of their classmates called 'Dingoes Ate My Baby.' It was a weird name, to be sure, but they were an awesome band. They'd played at the Bronze almost every weekend since eighth grade, and by the time their sophomore year had started, they'd earned enough money for Spike to buy his monstrosity of a car, even though he wouldn't be old enough to drive it for another year. The other band members had wisely put their earnings away for college, most likely at the insistence of parents who didn't want their children to have to rely on music as a career, but Spike had seen the huge black car and had immediately fallen in love with it.

He'd overridden all his father's objections to the purchase – college tuition being the largest – by explaining that he was already at the top of his class and would have no problem securing a merit scholarship to any college he chose. So the car was purchased, titled, insured, and squirreled away in Buffy's garage because the Giles house didn't have one.

XXXX

After the gut-wrenching scene with Cecily, nobody in Sunnydale had been all that surprised when Buffy and Spike had said they were moving to LA to start over. The whole town, it seemed, had heard about Cecily ripping Spike's heart out and stomping it to paste under her Manalo Blahniks, so they'd completely understood why he was leaving. And where Spike went, Buffy went… that was a given. They'd been pretty much inseparable since Spike had moved to the states when they were both eight.

He'd moved into the house across the street with his father, Rupert Giles, but their first meeting had been anything but sunshine and puppies. William had accidentally run over one of her Barbies with his bike, popping the head right off and leaving a dark tire mark across Barbie's face. Buffy had lit into him with all the fury of a wronged eight year old girl, poking him harshly in the chest and demanding he replace her most favorite doll in all the world. Of course she'd failed to mention that she had close to thirty Barbie dolls up in her room, so losing one wasn't really that big a deal.

He'd stuttered and stammered out apology after apology, swearing up and down he would get some money somehow before fleeing back across the street, leaving his bike lying in Buffy's front yard. She'd held it hostage for almost two weeks until a painfully shy and sufficiently chastised William had shown up on her doorstep with a brand new Barbie doll in hand.

Buffy still had that doll, tucked away under her bed in a box that contained all the other little trinkets and doo-dads that Spike had given her over the years. She was in love with him… had been since that very first meeting on the sidewalk in front of her house, but he didn't know it. He was completely oblivious, as a matter of fact. To him, she was his best mate; the one person in the world he could tell all his secrets to and be himself around. He didn't have to put up the tough, brash, Big Bad Spike front that he used with everyone else, he could just be William – shy, poetry writing, brain the size of a planet William.

At first, it had been just a regular little kid's crush. The kind where she says they're going to get married someday and they play house where she's the mom and he's the dad and her dolls are their children. William was way too shy at first to tell the strong-willed girl from across the street that he really didn't like playing house, but after several months he'd finally worked up the courage. Buffy, a spoiled brat of the first order that was used to getting her own way, had actually listened to his stilted explanation and, surprising even herself, had acquiesced. They hadn't played house again after that.

Even as shy as William was, he was still a boy, so they'd started doing things that boys like to do – playing with cars and trucks in the dirt, climbing trees, and riding their bikes all over the neighborhood. Buffy's house backed up to a large undeveloped space full of trees, small rolling hills, and a medium-sized stream that wound through an old disused gravel quarry. Once they'd discovered it, they'd spent many a hot summer day playing in the fort they'd set up under a rough hewn cliff. They'd built up a rather strong wall using small discarded pieces of granite and had stocked their fort with jugs of stream water and a box of dented canned goods that they'd pilfered from their respective kitchens. All summer long they'd fought off Indians and Roman soldiers and aliens and any manner of enemy stupid enough to attack their well fortified stronghold.

Their parents had both worked long hours and were rarely home, so they'd been left to their own devices most of the time. It was an idyllic childhood. Long summer days spent playing outside from sunup to sundown, then campouts in either his back yard or hers, staying up late trying to scare each other silly with the most frightening tales they could conjure. When school had started, they'd spent all their after school hours riding through their small town, collecting rocks and bugs and whatever else they thought would make a good addition to the 'treasure' stashed in their fort.

Everything had changed when they'd hit Junior High and William had discovered girls. Girls that weren't Buffy, at any rate. His attention seemed to be drawn to the snooty and snobby girls who mirrored his neat appearance of freshly pressed slacks and dress shirts… girls that were pretty much Buffy's polar opposites. She'd turned into a full-fledged, card carrying tomboy and couldn't be bothered with frilly clothes, strappy sandals, or makeup like the rest of her peers. She preferred well-worn jeans, sweatshirts, and loosely laced skater shoes. Even though she and William made quite the odd pair, nobody could deny they were the best of friends.

Then Spike met Drusilla Drummond. She became his first real girlfriend and it was because of her that William stopped being William and morphed into Spike. Dru was Goth in every sense of the word and more than just a little crazy, but for some reason, Spike loved her. His love went so deep that he cut off his beautiful honey blond curls and bleached the hair that remained to within an inch of its life then slicked it back into a gelled helmet. His neat, preppy clothes were bagged and stuffed into the attic, and in their place, tight black jeans and punk band t-shirts appeared, accompanied by scuffed Doc Martens and a long, leather duster. He started wearing eyeliner and black nail polish and even pierced his eyebrow where the scar bisected it, the scar he'd received when he'd fallen out of the tree in Buffy's back yard.

Buffy had watched his transformation with trepidation; convinced that he was going to move on to bigger and better things and leave her standing alone in the ashes of his old persona, but Spike had surprised her. He'd still confided in her, still spent hours with her at his house or hers – much to Drusilla's aggravation – and still called her his best mate.

Dru had finally dumped him the second week of their junior year after he'd caught her with her tongue down Liam O'Connor's throat and her hand down his pants. Spike had been devastated and Buffy's shoulder had been bathed in his tears over a girl for the first time. She'd been in almost as much pain as he was over the situation, but she hadn't shown it. Instead, she'd comforted him and told him that he was a great guy who was too good for Dru and if she couldn't see that then she was as crazy as everyone said. That had gone over like a lead balloon and Spike had stormed out, angry that Buffy had disparaged the 'love of his life.' He'd stayed away for almost two weeks and Buffy had been sure that she'd seen the last of their friendship, but Spike had surprised her yet again. He'd shown up on her doorstep, shamefaced and apologetic over putting 'some barmy chit' ahead of his best mate and he'd promised never to do it again.

Buffy's heart had clenched at the thought that he'd never see her as more than a friend, but she'd swallowed the hurt and had smiled her brightest smile as she'd welcomed him back into her life. If she couldn't have him as a boyfriend, at least she could have him as a friend and that would have to be enough.

Buffy's next test of friendly fortitude had come in the shape of one Harmony Kendall. As soon as everyone at school had found out about Spike and Dru's breakup, Harmony had pursued Spike with a single-mindedness that belied her air-headed bimbo status. She wouldn't leave him alone and had relentlessly chased her 'Blondie Bear' for months until he'd finally caved and agreed to go out with her. It had been a train wreck of epic proportions; one of those horribly frightening situations that you just can't keep from gawking at as you drive slowly past thinking, 'There, but for the grace of God, go I.'

Anybody with functioning eyeballs could see that Spike could barely stand Harmony, but he'd allowed her to drape herself over him like a slut colored blanket at every opportunity. Practically anytime the two of them were in the same general vicinity she'd had some part of her body attached to some part of his, usually at the lips. It had made Buffy gag – she'd actually had to run to the bathroom on several occasions to empty her stomach – but she'd stoically leashed her tongue, refusing to voice the thought that was running rampant in everyone's minds, namely _'How can he possibly stand that vapid whore?'  
_

The summer between their junior and senior year had finally seen the breakup of Harmony and Spike. Not by Harmony's choice, mind you, but because of circumstances beyond her control. Her father's company had transferred him and they were being moved to Missouri, of all places. Before she'd left, she'd told Spike he was free to pursue other girls because she didn't think a long-distance relationship would work. He'd looked sufficiently broken up about the whole thing, but Buffy could tell he'd been breathing a sigh of relief on the inside– a sigh she'd wholeheartedly shared.

After Harmony's abrupt departure, Buffy and Spike had spent a fabulous summer together, hanging out at the Bronze or their respective houses. They'd even camped out in the yard a time or two, even though they'd both agreed they were getting too old for such childish pursuits.

Then, along came Cecily Underwood. She'd moved to Sunnydale from England just before the start of their senior year and Spike had fallen hard for her almost immediately. She'd been the sun, the moon, every freaking planet in the solar system according to his love struck eyes and Buffy had had to actively restrain herself from smacking him upside the head several times a day.

She couldn't stand Cecily – at all – not even a tiny bit – but she hadn't been sure if that was because Cecily was a cast-iron bitch or because of Spike's interest in her. She'd finally decided it was probably a lot of both, but she'd managed to hold her tongue on the subject even though it had caused her great pain to see Spike chasing after a girl who obviously didn't want him.

He'd tried everything he could think of to woo her for the duration of their senior year. He'd sent her love poems, dedicated songs to her beauty, and had sat near her whenever he had the chance, sketching her face over and over again in his drawing pad, all to no avail. Cecily had strung him along with shy smiles and flirty glances all year long and Spike had thought he'd been making headway until the last day of school when, in front of a large group of her friends, she'd unleashed every disparaging thought she'd ever had about him, telling her friends how she despised everything about Spike – the way he dressed, his hair, the fact that he was in a band, and that he drove an old car. Basically, everything that made Spike who he was, she'd hated.

For the rest of that afternoon, Buffy's shoulder had been bathed in Spike's tears for the second time over a girl. She hadn't said anything against Cecily, even though she'd desperately wanted to, and eventually he'd calmed down and had stumbled home well after midnight.

The next day had seen Spike completely remake himself into something he thought would be worthy of the bitch. Gone were the eyeliner, the nail polish, and his eyebrow piercing. He'd dug his old William clothes out of the attic and had replaced them with his Spike attire, even his beloved duster. He'd even tried to dye his hair, but had ended up shaving it off in a fit of pique when the dye hadn't taken and had left it a bright orange color, similar to Oz's.

They'd gone to the Bronze that night for Spike's last set with the band. The other band members had been arguably upset at Spike's sudden decision to quit music and they hadn't parted on the best of terms. Spike had stormed out; complaining loudly that 'Cecily is bloody well worth it and you gits can just get over yourselves. I started this soddin' band and I can bloody well end it.' Oz had watched him go then had sadly hugged Buffy and whispered that when Spike came to his senses, he'd still be there.

The following morning, Spike had gotten up early and had set about securing employment that had nothing to do with music. True, the Doublemeat Palace wasn't the best place to work, but it was a job. Buffy had gone with him, figuring that getting hired on at the same place would be the only time she'd get to spend with him, and she hadn't been wrong.

Every spare moment he'd had was spent chasing Cecily. He'd get off work and rush home to scrub off the smell of burgers and grease then dress in his best clothes to go hang at the Sunnydale Country Club with Cecily's crowd. Buffy wasn't allowed in, her family didn't have a membership, but Spike's father had secured one after Spike had begged him for days.

All summer long Buffy had listened to Spike gush about how wonderful Cecily was as she'd stood over the hot fryer in her requisite goofy cow hat. When college had started up in the fall, they'd had different classes and their hours had changed at the Doublemeat to accommodate their differing schedules, so Buffy had hardly seen Spike at all. On the few occasions that he'd dropped by her house, it was usually just to tell her about the wonderful date he'd just been on with Cecily and how their relationship was progressing.

Buffy had tried to be happy for him, she really had, and she'd tried to move on herself and find a boyfriend, succeeding somewhat when she'd dropped a pile of psychology books on a cute boy's head the first week of college. Riley had turned out to be really funny and sweet and Buffy had said yes when he'd asked her out on a date. Things had gotten serious between them quickly. Well, serious in the not seeing other people sense, but not so much in the sexy bedroom fun sense. Buffy was still a virgin, another little detail that Spike was unaware of.

She'd had boyfriends, not many – she wasn't that interested in dating, for obvious reasons – but she had tried. And they'd all left her for the same reason – she'd never been able to let them anywhere near her heart… or her panties. Even though she knew it was a lost cause, she'd been saving those things for Spike. And then she'd caught Riley crawling all over some skank like an ant on a cupcake, because said skank would put out whereas Buffy wouldn't. She'd been expecting it, so she hadn't been all that surprised when it had finally happened, and she'd broken up with him; sadly resigning herself to the fact that she was destined to die as an untouched spinster… probably with a house full of cats.


	3. Chapter 3 - Oh Crap

Oblivious

Chapter Three – Oh… Crap.

Buffy startled when a pale arm snaked around her and snatched the dish cloth that had been dangling forgotten from her fingers. She drew in a quick breath as Spike's muscled chest pressed up against her back and he murmured into her ear, "Let me get this, luv. You've got work in a little while, don't you?"

She was surprised he couldn't hear her heart as it pounded away in her chest. To her it sounded like Spike's bass drums when he was whaling away on them, totally zoned on the music. She closed her eyes for a minute and just luxuriated in the heat she could feel radiating off his bare torso.

He was trying to kill her; he really was, what with the walking around the apartment half-naked all the time. His shirt would be off a mere thirty seconds after he stepped through the front door and would stay off until he had to leave the apartment again. His Docs would be kicked off as he walked toward the bathroom and he'd emerge twenty minutes later, damp and wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts as he toweled his wet hair.

One of the first purchases Buffy had made after they'd moved in was a massaging shower head. Spike had teased her about it, telling her she really should find a boyfriend to scratch that itch and she'd smacked him and told him it wasn't for **that**. He'd leered, doing that eyebrow thing that always made her knees melt, and she'd called him a perv and had insisted she needed it for sore muscles because of the job she'd gotten. True, working as a data entry specialist wasn't all that strenuous, but sitting at a desk all day made your muscles sore. Yeah… that was her story and she was sticking to it.

That shower head got a lot of use, what with the mostly nakedness of Spike all the time and the sharing of a bedroom… another thing Buffy was sure was going to kill her. When they'd moved in, there had been one double bed in the room and she'd spent three agonizing nights **not** sleeping next to Spike. He'd been Captain Oblivious as usual, ending up practically wrapped around her every night like they'd used to do when they were kids, snuggled together like a couple of puppies. So she'd insisted on getting new beds – telling him it was because he was a blanket hog and he kicked – and she'd put them on opposite sides of the room, just as far apart as she could.

The space hadn't really helped much, it being kind of a small bedroom and all, but at least he couldn't be all limpet boy from across the room. She could still smell his earthy masculine scent, though, and hear him breathing, and watch the moonlight from the window as it played across his smooth, creamy skin. She'd spent the first couple of weeks propped up on her elbow for most of the night just watching him sleep and trying to use the power of her mind to make the sheet he was covered with move just a Little. Bit. Lower.

The only thing that had kept her from dropping dead from sheer exhaustion had been a care package from her Mom. Joyce had sent a basket of bath beads and soaps and a soothing eye mask. Buffy now wore that mask to bed every night. It didn't help with the smelling or the hearing, but as long as she wasn't able to see him, she could actually get some sleep.

It was getting harder and harder to hide her feelings for him and she'd started to wonder if maybe he was catching on. He seemed to be touching her a lot more these last few weeks; wrapping her up in hugs and stepping just a little closer than was strictly necessary when they'd pass each other in the bathroom doorway, but maybe she just thought he was because she wanted it so much.

She'd also noticed that he'd started sleeping naked. He'd always worn at least a pair of boxers to bed, but for the last month or so, he'd been sleeping raw. She didn't think he knew that she knew and she'd only found out when she'd gotten up one night to pee and noticed he'd kicked his sheet off. The moonlight had been shining directly on him and she'd stood there, mouth hanging open in shock as she'd gotten her first good look at an all grown up Spike. Sure, they'd seen each other naked once when they were kids, the whole 'you show me yours and I'll show you mine' phase all children go through at some point, but since then, they'd both stayed appropriately covered.

She'd tried to reel in her jaw, but it hadn't been at all cooperative, and 'Wowza' had been the only thought her brain had managed to come up with. She probably would've stood there staring at him for the rest of the night if he hadn't moved, his fingers twitching on his stomach and absently scratching at the pleasure trail that led from his belly button to… points further south. She'd jumped almost a mile then had scurried back to her bed; diving under the covers and pulling her mask back down over her eyes, forgetting all about having to pee. She hadn't gotten any more sleep that night.

He also seemed to be looking at her a lot more, like he was trying to figure her out… but again, that could just be wishful thinking. When they'd moved to LA, she'd owned only jeans and sweatshirts, most of which were too big for her and hung off her small frame, but since then she'd been gradually changing her look. Shortly after they'd moved in, Hank had somewhat reluctantly handed over his credit card – falling victim yet again to Buffy's patented puppy dog eyes – and his unlimited credit line had gone a long way in updating her wardrobe. She'd started with a few simple things – a few pairs of jeans that hugged her curves and half a dozen baby tees that still covered her from neck to waist, but were a lot tighter than what she usually wore. Over the last four months, she'd gradually weeded out all her tomboy clothes and now dressed like a girl. She wore short skirts with flippy hemlines and spaghetti strap tank tops that left her belly bare. She'd even gotten her belly button pierced when Spike had gone in to have his eyebrow redone.

Maybe… hopefully… all her changes were paying off and he was starting to see her as an actual fully developed human female, not just as Buffy the best mate. Having him realize how she felt about him would be her dream come true, but she wasn't about to make any kind of move that could be considered a first. She was terrified that if she did – and her feelings weren't returned – that she'd just curl up and die of a broken heart. She'd much rather have Spike in her life as a friend than not at all.

"Hey, pet? Earth to Buffy… you in there?"

Buffy jerked and the hand that had been buried in the sink flipped a wave of water over the counter that splashed onto her work clothes. "Oh crap!" She automatically tried to back away from the sink, but Spike was still behind her and they ended up on the kitchen floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Spike started laughing and Buffy couldn't help herself as she collapsed into giggles. "What a way to start my day. Laying tangled up on the floor with my roommate and covered in dirty dish water."

Spike untangled himself and got to his feet then held out his hand, helping her up. "You go get changed, pet. I'll tidy up in here."

She started out of the kitchen then turned back. "Hey, don't you have to get ready, too? You've got that meeting with that record company guy today, don't you?"

He shrugged, "Yeah. It's a bit later."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "You don't seem that excited about it. I thought you'd be happier. This could be your big break, Spike, your ticket to fame and fortune."

Spike shrugged again and turned to face the sink. "Just don't want to get my hopes up, luv. Yeah, it could be huge… but it could also be nothin' and I'm kinda leanin' towards nothin'."

Buffy walked up behind him and laid her hand on his arm. "They'd be fools not to snap you up, Spike. You're an awesome musician and we both know it."

He turned and gave her a shy smile. "Yeah? You really think so?"

She beamed a smile back at him. "Of course I do." She nudged him with her elbow. "So, are you gonna remember little old me when you're all rich and famous with bodyguards, and an entourage, and gobs of groupies trying to rip your clothes off all the time?"

He chuckled and wrapped his arm over her shoulders. "Could never forget my best mate, Buffy. 'Sides, you're the reason I've even got this meetin' to go to. If you hadn't insisted I rent out studio time then that record executive would've never even seen me."

Buffy snuggled into his side for just a second, '_God, he smells good!_' then she straightened up and smirked. "I'm gonna be roomies with a rock star. Geez, Spike, I can't get you to pick up your socks now! I can't imagine trying to get you to pick them up when you're all famous. Guess I'll just be the Spike's socks picker upper forever." She tapped her chin with a finger as her expression turned thoughtful. "Hmmm. Maybe I could sell them on Ebay. You think your fans would want a pair of slightly used Spike socks?" He grinned as he shook his head and she nudged him again. "You'd better not start dragging your groupies back here for wild parties, either. One of us still has to get up in the morning and go to a boring old job."

Spike wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. "Not gonna drag anybody back here, kitten, this is our place. 'Sides, I'm just the drummer. Nobody ever notices the drummer, so I doubt there'll be any groupies to drag."

Buffy's brain didn't process that statement for a few seconds because it was busy thinking, _'Guh… muscles…'_ and it didn't kick back on until Spike had released her and backed up a step. "Wait… not notice you? Seriously? Have you looked in a mirror lately, dufus?"

His shy smile was back as his face heated in a blush. "Yeah, I've looked. 'M nothin' special, luv. Just a regular bloke."

Buffy glanced at the clock on the microwave and realized she was rapidly running out of time. "Crap, I've got to go, but I just want to tell you that you're so full of shit I'm surprised your eyes aren't brown instead of their usual beautiful blue. You're gorgeous, Spike. Totally hot and lickable and yummy with the arms and the abs and the eyes and those cheekbones that most models would kill for. You also look like walking sex on legs whenever you're practicing on your kit in nothing but those shorts, and yeah, I kind of shrunk them on purpose like you said and yeah it was all for my benefit, and boy, when you're in your stage gear… mmhmm. They're gonna have to hire some seriously beefy security guys to keep all the girls off you after you sign your big, fat contract."

She started backing out of the kitchen. "And you'd better call me and tell me how it went the very second you step out of their offices. You're totally amazing and awesome and one of the best musicians I've ever seen and you're gonna knock their socks off, I just know it. Good luck, Spike." She turned and darted down the hallway to the bedroom then jumped into dry clothes. She quickly checked her hair then snagged her purse and rushed out of the apartment. It was only when she'd been at her desk for a few minutes and was nursing her first cup of coffee that she realized what she'd said to him. Her eyes went dinner plate wide as her fingers tightened in a white knuckle grip around her coffee cup. "Oh… crap."


	4. Chapter 4 - We Need to Talk

Oblivious

Chapter Four – We Need to Talk

Spike stood motionless in the kitchen for a long time after Buffy left, blinking owlishly as his brain replayed what she'd just said to him over and over. '_She thinks I'm sexy? And lickable? Lickable!?_' A sudden vision of Buffy licking a certain part of his anatomy like a lolly slammed into his brain and he had to grip the counter to keep from falling to the floor as his knees suddenly gave out. The part of his anatomy in question gave a sudden twitch of interest and Spike looked down in horror. "Bloody hell! Where'd that come from? She's my mate!"

He leaned back against the counter and scrubbed his hands over his face as more visions of Buffy careened through his mind. They wouldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried to shut them down. He kept seeing Buffy in her – he finally realized – new girly clothes, all tight, and small, and clingy in all the right places, and his eyes widened in shock as his big brain finally caught up with his little brain. "Oh balls… she's a girl!"

He started pacing around the kitchen, gesturing wildly as he muttered to himself. "Well, yeah… course she's a girl, you nit, she's always been a girl, guess I just never noticed that she's recently come over all… girly." He stopped dead in the middle of the kitchen as another picture flashed in his mind – Buffy sitting on her bed wrapped in a towel, brushing her wet hair as a drop of water slowly tracked down her neck toward the valley between her breasts. He shivered as he wondered what that drop would've looked like as it traveled over her stomach to her… He jerked like he'd just been electrocuted and shouted, "She's sexy! Buffy is a hot, beautiful, sexy girl! How did I never notice that? God, am I completely blind?"

Well, to be fair, he hadn't noticed **any** girls, not since Cecily had ground his heart into a fine powder. He hurt, even now, but – and he'd just realized… again, apparently today was going to be full of epiphanies – the pain was less. Much less. He didn't think of Cecily several times every day anymore. As a matter of fact, he hadn't thought of her at all for a few weeks. He'd been too busy with work and school and his music, and Buffy had been there every step of the way, encouraging him whenever he started to doubt himself and his abilities, and praising him at every opportunity.

He'd always seen her as just a dear friend, but now that his brain had attached **sexy girl** to **Buffy**, he couldn't get it to stop and more pictures circled his mind. Buffy in a short skirt, her smooth tanned legs crossed demurely as her ankle bracelet twinkled. The flash of her belly button ring when she stretched to get something off a high shelf and her shirt rode up. The very top of her breasts peeking out of a tight shirt as her flat, toned stomach was displayed at the bottom. Her firm, perfectly shaped ass wrapped up in a pair of clingy yoga pants as she bent over to pick up his dirty socks.

He ground his fists into his eyes in an effort to wipe the images away, but it didn't work. They kept circling his brain as something twitched again and stirred to life somewhere a bit farther south. These thoughts were reawakening something in him that he'd pretty much forgotten about since Sunnydale. He hadn't even had one wank since they'd moved here… hadn't had the urge to, but now… His left hand drifted down over his belly and slid slowly over the rock hard bulge in his shorts, a wet spot already forming at the tip. He moaned low in his throat as he rubbed himself to images of Buffy in those yoga pants, picturing himself sliding them down oh so slowly as she bent over in front of him and then…

His eyes snapped open and he jerked his hand away from his crotch, his cheeks burning in shame. "God, she's my mate! Has been for years! I'm not supposed to think of her that way! She bloody well doesn't think of me that way!" He stopped and his eyes widened in shock again as he whispered to the empty room, "Does she?"

Spike spent the rest of the morning thinking. He paced around the apartment trying to will his erection away with absolutely no luck, and finally jumped into a cold shower, hoping to quell the lust raging through him. The ice cold water sluicing over him didn't help a bit and he ended up pulling one off to images of Buffy, shouting her name as he climaxed. After he dried off and dressed, he moved out to the living room to sit on the sofa, but his whirling thoughts had him up and pacing before he'd even warmed the cushion. He went back over their entire relationship in his mind, trying to pick out when Buffy's feelings might have changed from being just friends to being more… friendly.

He'd dated, she'd dated – and they'd always supported each other in their partner choices – sort of. He'd never had a problem with any of the blokes she'd gone out with, aside from feeling like none of them were good enough for her, but that was his prerogative as her best mate, wasn't it? He was supposed to feel like that, wasn't he?

He groaned as he remembered what she'd said when Dru had ditched him for that forehead-too-big-for-his-git-face poofter. She'd said that he was a great guy who was too good for a crazy girl like Dru. He'd gotten angry and he'd left, regretting it almost immediately, but he'd stayed away until he just couldn't stand it anymore. Being without Buffy for that long had been like trying to exist without breathing and he'd realized that he needed her just like he needed oxygen. So he'd dragged himself across the street, sure that she was going to slam the door in his face for being a complete plonker, but Buffy had forgiven him easily and had never again said anything bad about any of the girls he'd dated… even Harmony.

He realized that over the years Buffy hadn't talked about her blokes all that much, not like he'd talked about his birds… well, except for Harmony. He'd blathered on for hours about their beauty and wit and what all and she'd listened with a smile on her face, although in retrospect, those smiles now seemed a bit forced and they'd never reached her eyes. He remembered one instance in particular. They'd been laughing and joking around, talking about what they were going to do with the rest of their lives. Her eyes had been bright and her face had been lit up with happiness until he'd mentioned Dru. It was like he'd flicked a switch. The light had gone out of her eyes even though she'd still had a smile plastered on her face while he'd yammered on. He hadn't thought much about the change in her demeanor at the time, figuring it was because she hadn't really gotten on with Dru, but now that he was weighing it against all these new thoughts in his brain… He blurted out to the empty room, "She was jealous! Even back then!"

He tried to remember even one time when she'd talked about her boyfriends the way he'd talked about his girlfriends, again… except for Harmony. She'd talk about them, sure, but it was mostly just to convey information… we went here, we did this, and we did or didn't have fun. She never spoke of how she **_felt_** about them, and come to think about it, she'd always spent more time with him than she had with any of them.

He'd cried on her shoulder over a bird three times now, but she'd never once cried on his shoulder over any of her blokes. Sure, she'd cried over some mean girl drama a time or two, but not once had she even seemed upset when she'd broken up with a boyfriend. She'd just mentioned it in passing, usually in the same tone of voice she'd use to inform him what inedible glop the cafeteria was serving up that day. It was like she was just going through the motions – dating because that's what was expected, not because she'd actually wanted to. All the signs pointed to her saving herself for someone, and the realization of who that someone was hit him like a wrecking ball.

He scrubbed his hands over his face as he dropped down onto the couch in a boneless heap. "Bloody hell… I think the chit loves me."

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Buffy jumped when her cell phone rang, nearly knocking her coffee cup off the desk. She managed to catch it then fumbled it back into a safe spot before she snatched up her phone and peeked at the caller ID. Spike. Her stomach was suddenly full of dive-bombing, kamikaze butterflies as she pressed send and shakily put the phone up to her ear then stammered, "H..hello?"

"Hey, pet. You told me to ring the very second I left. I'm waitin' for the lift right now."

She smiled even though the butterflies were still dive-bombing, and she thought her voice sounded passably normal when she replied, "So, how'd it go? Are you a newly minted rock star? When's your first concert? Did they give you a limo yet? How many bodyguards have you been assigned and can you make sure they take their shoes off when you bring them home?"

He chuckled, the warm sound sending a shiver all through her that settled low in her belly and seemed to excite the butterflies into more frenzied antics. "Yeah, you could say that. They made Oz and me a hell of a deal, but we're gonna have an agent go over the contract 'fore we sign and it'll be a bit 'fore we do any shows or take any limo rides. Gotta record an album first. If it does well, then we'll get to tour. Once the agent gives the thumbs up, we'll sign and then start auditioning some other blokes to fill the empty spots. And no, we've not been assigned bodyguards yet so I guess you'll just have to help me fight off the throngs of non-existent fans for the time being."

Buffy squealed, making sure to move the phone away from her mouth so she wouldn't deafen Spike. When the squeal had run its course, she put the phone back up to her head. "That is so completely awesome! We should go out to celebrate! Does Oz want to go?"

Suddenly nervous, Spike gripped his phone hard enough to make the plastic creak under his fingers. "Uh… yeah, we could do that, I s'pose. Uh… Buffy… we need to talk."

Her stomach plummeted into the toes of her shoes and she slumped back in her chair, all her bones turned to rubber. It took a few tries to swallow the huge lump in her throat so she could croak out, "Oh… um… sure. I guess we do. Uh… I'm off in two hours. See you at home?"

"Sure. See you then. Bye."


	5. Chapter 5 - Guh

Oblivious

Chapter Five – Guh

The apartment was dark when Buffy unlocked the door and pushed it open and she stumbled and nearly went down as she tripped over something on the floor. She fumbled for the switch and her heart clenched as light flooded the entryway and she saw what it was she'd tripped over. Spike's duffel bag. Spike's fully packed duffel bag.

She squeezed her eyes shut and slumped against the wall, her keys and purse dropping to the floor from her suddenly nerveless fingers. "He's leaving. He figured it out and he doesn't want me so he's leaving." She slid to the floor beside her purse and buried her face in her hands, her tears flowing unchecked as she sobbed.

As she sat there on the entryway floor, she saw her future spin out in front of her – bleak and desolate and barren… and full of cats – and she sobbed harder, pulling her legs up and burying her face in her knees. She'd lost him, all because she couldn't keep her big, fat, stupid mouth shut and she'd blurted out all those secret thoughts about how sexy and lickable she thought he was. "Lickable! God! I told him I thought he was lickable!"

She mumbled miserably against her linen work slacks, "He must have been disgusted. I am so totally not his type… he probably threw up all over the floor at the thought of me being with him **that way**." She looked up at his duffel that was just sitting there mocking her, then pushed away from it with a loud sob and curled into a ball in the far corner of the entry way. She couldn't even bring herself to get to her feet so she could go cry on her bed. Her legs just wouldn't work; it was like her strings had been cut. She wrapped her arms over her head and whimpered into the carpet, "I don't even like cats," as the sobs took over, wracking her small frame.

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"Oh hell, would you sods hurry up?" Spike railed at the traffic that was creeping along in front of him. "She'll be home in less than thirty minutes!" He poked his head out the window and shouted, "It's the bloody pedal on the right! Stomp on it, you wankers, I've got to get home!" The traffic ignored him, as traffic is wont to do, and he pulled his head back inside, pounding on the steering wheel in his frustration. "Never should have gone after the bloody wine! Bloody hell! Would you people move? Christ on a crutch, I'm only three bleedin' blocks from home!"

Finally, the traffic started moving and Spike drove as fast as he dared, practically crawling up the tailpipe of the car in front of him as he continued to shout, cursing the stupidity of the entire population. He was questioning the parentage of whoever was driving the minivan in front of him when it finally pulled into the parking lot of the building down the block from his. He stomped on the gas pedal, barking the tires against the pavement as the massive engine roared and the car jumped forward. "It's about bleedin' time! Where the bloody hell did you learn how to drive?"

He turned into his building's parking lot at speed, squealing the tires, and slid to a screeching halt in his assigned space. There wasn't time to bother with getting the car into the garage if he wanted to get everything set up before she got home. According to his phone, he still had ten minutes before she'd get off the bus on the corner and it took her about five minutes to get up to the apartment. Hopefully that would be enough time.

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The elevator at the end of the hallway pinged as the car reached her floor and Buffy realized she'd left the front door hanging open. She looked up at the door with a red and blotchy tear-stained face but couldn't make herself move to close it. She lowered her head again, wrapping her arms over it as another sob wracked her body.

Spike stepped off the elevator, juggling a stuffed shopping bag, a bottle of wine, and a bundle of flowers as he dug in his duster pocket for his apartment keys. He found them and lifted the key toward the door without really looking then stopped and gasped when he noticed the door was already open. He saw Buffy's purse and keys on the floor next to his bag and pushed the door open wider, almost dropping his armload of stuff as his eyes fell on the huddled form crammed into the corner.

He set his purchases down on the entryway table and pushed the door closed with his foot then darted over to Buffy and knelt down beside her. "Buffy? Pet? You hurt? What happened?" She shuddered and pulled herself into a smaller ball, mumbling something into the carpet. "What? Can't hear you, luv. What's the matter?"

She raised her head and whispered, "Just go. Please. I know you don't want me and I know I screwed everything up, so please just go. I'm sorry, Spike." She dropped her head and Spike's eyes widened as her small frame shook with fresh sobs.

He sat back on his heels as he tried to figure out what to do. He'd never been any good with crying females; they made him feel like a useless git. True, this wasn't the first time he'd been confronted with a crying Buffy, but he'd always seen her as just a mate and had acted accordingly. The fact that she was female had been beside the point. This was altogether different. For the first time in their long relationship he saw the girl, not just the friend, and he wasn't at all sure she'd accept comfort from him now, but he couldn't just leave her sobbing miserably on the floor.

He steeled himself for resistance and leaned forward, hesitantly scooping her into his arms. She tensed for a few seconds then molded herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck as he stood and walked into the living room. He sat down on the couch and settled her in his lap then just held her while she continued to sob.

It took a little while, but she finally calmed down. She hadn't moved at all except to remove her arms from around his neck and bury her face in his chest. He'd started rubbing soothing circles on her back as she'd cried and that had seemed to help calm her somewhat. He felt her fingers clutch at his t-shirt as she drew in a shuddering breath and he tightened his arms around her and whispered, "You wanna tell me what that was all about, luv? What's got you so upset?"

She whispered against his damp shirt. "You're leaving."

His eyes widened in surprise. "I am? Where'm I goin'?"

She shrugged miserably, "Away from me. You don't want me."

He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face away from his chest. His eyes were dark and stormy and Buffy thought he looked guarded, like he was afraid of being hurt, but she couldn't be sure. "Buffy, I never said I didn't want you, I only said we needed to talk, yeah?" She nodded and his expression softened. "You said some things to me this mornin' that got me thinkin' and now I need to know something." He closed his eyes and took a deep, fortifying breath then opened them and asked quietly, "How do you feel about me, Buffy? Truthfully, in your heart, what do you feel for me?"

Buffy shivered at the earnest and hopeful expression he was wearing as she took a deep, shuddery breath. It was now or never. Whatever she said in the next few minutes would change her life forever. She closed her eyes, sure that the next words out of her mouth would send him screaming into the night, and courageously laid her heart on the line. "I love you, Spike. Not like a friend loves a friend, but like a woman loves a man. I'm in love with you."

She kept her eyes closed and held her breath as she waited for his response, startling a bit when she felt his lips brush against hers in a soft kiss. Her eyes flew open and met his and she saw the love there – buckets and buckets of love spilling out of his ocean blue eyes. He was looking at her like he'd looked at Dru, like he'd looked at Cecily, and she broke into sobs again, but this time they were from happiness, not misery.

'_Oh balls, she's cryin' again._' He reached up and swiped his thumb across her cheekbone. "You all right, pet? What did I do? What can I do?"

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pressed her lips to his then pulled back with a watery smile. "I love you, Spike."

He grinned, "I heard, pet. I love you, too." More tears spilled down her cheeks and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest. "Why you still cryin', luv? Thought you'd be happy."

She murmured into a t-shirt that was getting wetter by the second. "I am happy, I just never thought you'd love me, Spike, I'm not your type."

He pushed her back far enough that he could look her in the eye. "Not my type? What're you on about?"

She blushed and shrugged slightly as she dragged her eyes away from his, focusing instead on his chin. "Dru and Cecily were both English and brunettes and you loved them, but Harmony was an American blonde like me and you couldn't stand her. See? Not your type."

Spike's loud burst of laughter startled her and she jumped slightly, her face burning into a deeper blush as his laughter tapered off into amused chuckles. "You're out of your tree, kitten, completely off your bird. That's what you thought? That I loved 'em 'cause of their hair color or where they were born?" He lifted a hand to her face, gently cupping her cheek as he leaned close for a light kiss. "I loved 'em 'cause of who they were, or who I thought they were; their hair color and nationality had sod all to do with it. And I love you 'cause of who you are, not the color of your hair or the fact that you're a yank." Buffy closed her eyes as she leaned her head into Spike's hand. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and whispered, "Why'd you wait so long to tell me?"

She shrugged again and whispered, "You only saw me as a friend and I didn't want to lose you altogether. I was afraid that if I told you and you didn't feel the same way, you'd leave and then I wouldn't have you at all."

He cupped her face in both hands and pressed feather light kisses to her closed eyelids. "I'm sorry I'm so bloody thick, Buffy. You've felt this way for years, yeah?" She nodded against his lips and he sighed. "Wish I'd noticed long ago, wish I'd seen you, pet, could've saved us both a lot of heartache." He pulled back and waited until she'd opened her eyes then he smirked. "Next time I'm bein' bloody blind and not seein' what's right in front of my face, please thump me, all right? Hard. Right here." He tapped himself in the middle of the forehead.

Buffy giggled and leaned in for a light kiss. "I promise I'll thump you." She pulled back and reached up, gently tracing her fingers over his scarred and pierced eyebrow. "You really love me?"

His smile warmed her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes as his deep voice washed over her. "Yeah, kitten, I really love you. I know you've loved me for years and I only realized my own feelings this morning, but… once the thought surfaced everythin' just fell into place… clicked. It was there all along, I think, just boxed up nice and neat and all I had to do was lift the lid and it all came boundin' out." He drew her into another kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips then sliding inside when she opened them with a gasp. He explored her slowly, teasing along the roof off her mouth and tracing her teeth then tangling his tongue with hers until she broke away, panting for breath. While she was recovering, he nodded toward the front door. "Why were you home so early? Was a bit disconcerting to walk in and find my girl crumpled up on the floor in the corner."

She buried her face in his neck, trying to hide another blush, but he could feel the heat burning her cheeks. "I got sent home because I was so nervous and scared about what you wanted to talk about that I kept knocking things over and I spilled my coffee all over my keyboard."

He chuckled and she lifted her head, nodding it toward the duffel bag. "What about you, Mister Man? What's with the bag if you weren't going anywhere?"

Now it was his turn to blush as he stammered, "Oh… uh… bit of a surprise, luv. You weren't supposed to be here when I got home and I'd planned to move that, but…"

She smiled and bounced in his lap, "A surprise? What kind of surprise?"

He smirked at her enthusiasm then nudged her off his lap and stood up, moving toward the door to retrieve the bottle of wine, the flowers, and the shopping bag. He turned around, his fingers nervously clutching his purchases as he glanced shyly at her then focused on his boots. "Well, I'd been thinkin' all mornin' about what you'd said and about us and I wasn't completely sure, but I had an inkling and I hoped it was right, but it might not have been, so I actually came up with two plans. A and B." He held up the wine, flowers, and bag. "This is the stuff I needed for plan A." He nudged the duffel bag with the toe of his boot. "And this was plan B in case I was totally and completely wrong and plan A was a bust."

Buffy looked from the items in his hand to the bag on the floor. "So, if whatever that stuff was for didn't work, you were just going to leave?"

He nodded and looked up at her wearing a serious expression. "Yeah, but not forever, pet. Just long enough for both of us to get our heads together. Figured if I tried plan A and it blew up in my face that you probably wouldn't want me around for a while anyway, but I'll always be your friend, Buffy. Always."

Tears pricked at her eyes and she hurriedly swiped at them, not wanting to dissolve into sobs again. "So… what's plan A? 'Cause I'm thinking I'm going to like it a whole lot better than any plan that involves you leaving."

He smiled in relief and started for the bedroom. "Back in a tick." He closed the bedroom door and she heard him moving around, the rustle of the shopping bag, the snick-flick of his Zippo, and the popping of the wine cork before it got quiet for a few minutes.

The bedroom door suddenly sweeping open startled her, but that's not what made her mouth fall open as all the air whooshed out of her lungs. Spike was framed in the doorway, soft light from the bedroom surrounding his lithe form as he held an open bottle of wine and two glasses in one hand and the bouquet of flowers in the other. He was bare-chested and his lower half was wrapped in a pair of midnight blue silk sleep pants that rode low on his hips. Buffy reeled in her jaw and managed to pull enough air into her lungs to breathe out, "Guh."


	6. Chapter 6 - Snoopy

Oblivious

Chapter Six – Snoopy

Spike walked toward the living room while Buffy sat motionless on the couch. Well, 'walked' isn't really an accurate description of how he moved. Prowled would be closer. Or maybe stalked. Slinked, even. He slid between the couch and coffee table and sat down facing Buffy then tilted his head. "Wine?"

She nodded dumbly and accepted a glass. He laid the flowers across his legs and set his glass down on the table then reached for her hand, steadying it around the wine flute as he tipped the ruby red liquid into it. She watched the fluid slide down the side of the glass then blinked and looked up at Spike. "How'd you get wine? You're not old enough to drink."

Spike shrugged, "Paid some bloke outside the liquor store to go in and get it." He set the bottle down on the table and picked up the flowers. "Got these for you, kitten. Know they're your favorite."

She took the flowers with a warm smile and lifted them to her nose, inhaling deeply. "I love them, Spike, and thank you, but you really didn't have to do all this. I already love you, so you don't have to try to win me over or impress me or anything."

"I wanted to, pet, and I'm not tryin' to impress you… well, maybe a little, but mostly I wanted to show you how I feel, 'cause I know I've been bloody blind. Hell, I only just realized today that you're a girl."

Buffy barked a laugh and her hand jerked, almost spilling her wine all over the couch. "You just figured that out? I've kinda been a girl for the last couple of decades, Spike, it's not a new development."

Spike laughed as his face turned a really cute shade of pink. "Yeah… well… told you I was thick, pet. What you told me this mornin' got my brain tickin' along a new path and I've had a few earth shattering revelations since you left for work."

Buffy sniffed her flowers again then took a sip of wine. "So, you figured out I was a girl, what else?" She nudged his knee with a teasing smile. "That the sky's blue and water's wet?"

Spike shyly dipped his head and picked at his sleep pants. "Not quite that thick, luv. Um… finally noticed how sexy you are… with the cute little clingy tops and those every bloke's dream yoga pants… woke up a part of me I'd pretty much forgotten about."

Now it was Buffy's turn to shyly dip her head as she whispered, "You think I'm sexy?"

He reached out and gently lifted her chin then said quietly, "Yeah. I think you're sexy and beautiful and I'm probably never gonna get my socks into the hamper just so I can watch you bend over in those yoga pants to pick 'em up."

She blushed adorably again and whispered, "I'll pick up your socks if you take me with you whenever you practice… in those shorts."

He smirked, "So you do think I'm… what was it? Lickable?"

Her eyelids fell to half mast as her eyes drifted over his bare chest. "Oh yeah… definitely lickable… biteable, too."

He leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. "Sounds like a plan, luv. Where'd you want to start then?" His hand settled on her thigh and he looked down as he felt a slightly clammy dampness.

Buffy followed his gaze then squeaked and jumped up, thrusting her glass of wine at Spike. He grabbed hold of it purely on instinct, managing to keep most of the ruby liquid inside the glass as the flowers came barreling toward his other hand. He caught them then watched Buffy dart toward the bathroom with wide eyes. "Uh… Buffy? What's the matter?"

Buffy spun just as she reached the bathroom door and motioned to her clothing and puffy, tear-stained face. "What's the matter? I'm hideous! That's what's the matter! I'm covered in coffee and my hair probably looks like a pack of squirrels have been nesting in it and my face is all splotchy and everything and my makeup is totally gone and you're sitting there all with the sexy and lickableness of you and… God! Just… I'll be out in a while." She straight-armed the bathroom door out of the way and Spike winced slightly as it banged against the wall.

He set the flowers down then got up off the table, shaking his head in amusement as he gathered up the wine bottle and his glass then headed for the bedroom. He heard the shower turn on as he passed the bathroom door and chuckled quietly. "Silly bint." He deposited the wine and glasses on the table next to his bed then went back to the living room to fetch the flowers.

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Buffy stepped out of the bathroom surrounded in a billowing cloud of steam and squeaked as she almost walked right into Spike. He pulled a Victoria's Secret bag from behind his back and smiled as it swung from his index finger. "Got this for you, pet."

She looked down at the bag then blushed as she took it from him with one hand, the other clamped tightly on the towel that was wrapped around her. "Um… thanks. I'll just…" She nodded over her shoulder at the steam-filled bathroom.

Spike leaned down and gently kissed her then nodded toward the bedroom and whispered, "I'll be waiting in there when you're ready, kitten."

Her blush got even deeper as she backed into the bathroom. Spike stepped forward and pulled the door closed then he walked into the bedroom and looked it over, snagging a t-shirt that had missed the hamper before sitting down nervously on the edge of the bed.

He changed position half a dozen times, ending up slouched against his headboard with one knee raised, his forearm balanced on it and his hand dangling loosely. He was going for casual, but the anticipation was about to kill him. His stomach was in knots, his heart was pounding away in his chest, and he was breathing shallowly and a little too fast, making him feel slightly dizzy.

He heard the bathroom door open and Buffy's tentative steps toward the bedroom then she peeked around the corner, only her head visible, and smiled nervously. "You ready?"

He nodded and dropped his feet to the floor as he sat up, motioning for Buffy to walk around the bed and stand in front of him. She stepped into the bedroom and he smirked. She'd grabbed one of his button-down shirts from the dryer and had it buttoned all the way up to her neck. Spike tilted his head as he pouted, "Not fair, luv, although you do look right fetchin' wearin' my clothes."

Buffy was nervous. Insanely nervous. Her head felt all swimmy and hot, and she was so glad she hadn't had more than a couple sips of wine or she'd have surely puked all over Spike by now. His eyes were glued to her as she moved slowly into the space between their beds and she could feel his gaze sliding over her like it had actual weight. She stopped a few feet from him and her hand settled shakily on the top button of his shirt. "You want to see?"

He nodded vigorously and leaned back on his hands, the leer on his face becoming more pronounced with every button she slipped loose. She stopped at the last one, clutching the fabric closed in her fists, and then just stood there, trembling slightly. Spike sat forward, reaching for her, and she slowly stepped closer, shivering when he laid his hands over hers. "It's all right to be a little nervous, Buffy."

She bit her lip as she looked down at him then whispered, "I've just never… you know… with anybody and 'a little nervous' doesn't even begin to cover it." She giggled, high-pitched and slightly hysterical. "Actually, I'm about to hurl so you might want to move."

Spike gently maneuvered her to sit next to him on the bed then wrapped his arm over her shoulders as he murmured into her hair. "You've never? Really?"

She shook her head, dropping her gaze to her knees. "No. I didn't want to h..have s..s..sex with somebody I didn't love, and you're the only one I've ever loved, so…" She shrugged then slightly pulled away from him as she whispered, "I'm sorry, Spike. I know you're probably disappointed that I don't know what I'm doing."

Spike slid off the bed and dropped to his knees in front of her then gently clasped her hands in his. "Oh, Buffy, I'm not disappointed. And we don't have to do anything right now if you're not ready."

Her eyes flicked to his then she looked down again. "I w..want to, I've wanted to for a long time and I know it's gonna hurt because you're so b..big, but I'll t..try to be g..good for you."

He quirked his eyebrow. "Um… when exactly did you see my todger, kitten? Far as I know, we haven't seen each other in the altogether since we were eleven."

Buffy's blush deepened so much that the tips of her ears turned red. "Oh… um… one night I got up to p..pee and you'd kicked your sheet off and… I didn't mean to look, but… it was there… and…"

Spike smiled. "I get it, luv. It's all right."

Buffy cleared her throat and looked toward her bed. "So why'd you start sleeping naked all of a sudden?"

Spike shrugged. "I've always slept starkers, pet, 'cept when I was with you. Guess I just got comfortable with you bein' in the same room and stopped thinkin' about it."

Buffy nodded, her blush lessening slightly. "Oh."

Spike reached down and slid his hand lightly up her leg from ankle to knee. "Like I said, kitten, we don't have to shag if you're not ready, but there's other things I'd love to show you, if you want me to."

Buffy gulped as she watched his tongue slip out and wet his full, pink lips. "Th..things?"

He smiled and leaned down, brushing his lips lightly across her knee. "Lovely things." He kneeled up and grasped her legs behind her knees then tugged her forward, wrapping one arm around her waist, his hand pressing lightly at the small of her back. She shuddered as his lips blazed a tingling trail from just behind her ear to the collar of the shirt and her head lolled back to give him better access. She let go of the fabric and let her hands drift to his arms, sliding up to his shoulders then to the back of his head as she pulled him closer.

He used his unoccupied hand to gently tug the shirt open then slid it underneath, ghosting his fingers across her stomach. He lifted his head and pulled back slightly as he whispered, "Let me see you, kitten." She dropped her hands from his head, gripping the edge of the mattress tightly as he pushed the shirt off her shoulders. It slid to the bed, covering her hands, and she shook it off then crossed her arms over her nearly naked chest. Spike shook his head and motioned toward her arms. "Please don't hide from me. You're beautiful, luv."

She hesitantly moved her arms, letting them drop back down to her sides as she peeked at him through her lashes. He was sitting back on his heels staring at her with a look of wonder on his face. She glanced down at the outfit he'd bought for her, blushing almost as red as the silk that was stretched across her breasts. "You're staring."

He smiled and kneeled up again, lightly brushing his fingertips along the lace that edged the top of her panties. "Just drinking you in, kitten. Knew this'd look smashing on you."

She looked down again at the bra and panty set that fit her like a second skin then caught his eyes. "How'd you know what size to get? These fit perfectly."

He nodded over his shoulder at her dresser. "Did a bit of research."

Her eyes went wide. "You went through my underwear?"

He smiled and nodded toward the hamper in the corner of the room. "You rifle my knickers all the time, pet. Thought I'd return the favor."

She smacked him on the arm with a yelped, "I do not 'rifle your knickers,' I do your laundry! There's a difference, Mr. Snoopy Boxers!"

He grinned. "You bought 'em, luv."

She smiled. "Yeah… for me."

He shrugged and dipped his head, murmuring against her neck. "Not my fault you left 'em in the bag with my t-shirts." His fingers were sliding across her stomach again, lightly dipping under the edge of her panties when a loud rumbling noise rolled through the room. Spike lifted his head away from where he'd been nibbling on her collarbone and looked down at her stomach. "Hungry?"

She was as red as her silky undergarments again when she whispered, "Yeah. Haven't eaten since breakfast. Too nervous."

Spike suddenly bolted to his feet, smacking himself in the forehead with his palm on the way up. "God, I'm a git. A right prat. Lucky my Da's not here or he'd give me a well deserved thrashin' for this." He smiled down at her then cupped her cheek with his palm. "See? This is why I shouldn't make plans; I'm absolute crap at it."

He leaned down for a quick kiss then Buffy watched him walk into the closet. He came back out a few seconds later carrying a pair of jeans and a blue button down then quickly stripped out of the sleep pants and slipped into his jeans. He was halfway done buttoning his shirt before she finally found her voice. "Um… Spike?"

He looked over at her and smiled. "Right. Hold on, be right back." He disappeared into the closet again, returning this time with one of Buffy's sundresses. "Here you go, luv."

Buffy hesitantly took the dress and looked up at him in confusion that was quickly turning into humiliation. "You want me to get dressed? Now? What about… don't you want to… don't you want me?"


	7. Chapter 7 - Educational

We're almost at the end of our tale, and there's only one more chapter after this one. Thanks to everyone who has followed, favorited, and commented on this story. You guys are why I enjoy writing so much! Thanks again!

Oblivious

Chapter Seven – Educational

Spike smacked himself in the forehead again, harder this time, then dropped to his knees in front of a crying Buffy. "Oh, pet, I'm a bad, rude man. And did I mention thick? Of course I want you, I just… I came home and you were cryin' then you told me you love me and I didn't stop to think, I just went ahead with my ill-conceived plan, but you deserve more than this… more than just me draggin' you off to the bedroom for a shag. I want to do this right, treat you like you deserve… how I was raised to treat a lady." He took the dress from her trembling fingers and slipped it over her head. "Even though we've known each other for years and we live together, this is a new phase in our relationship and I went about it the wrong way, so I want to take you out, pet. On a date."

Buffy stuttered as she swiped at her face. "A d..date?"

He leaned in and caught her lips in a gentle kiss. "Yeah. Want to take my girl out on a date, show you off a bit and let the world know what an amazingly lucky bloke I am to have you." He stood and pulled her to her feet. "And we need to get some food into you, luv. Can't let my lady go hungry, now can I? Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I did." He winked. "'Sides, you'll need energy for later… when we get home."

She melted into his embrace and just held him tight for a few minutes as she got herself under control then she nervously looked up at him. "And you think I'm that kind of girl? One that just falls into bed with a guy on their first date?"

The shock on his face was absolutely adorable as he stammered, "What? No! No… you're not that kind of…" He trailed off at her mischievous grin then nipped at the end of her nose. "Cheeky bint." He nibbled across to her ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth as he whispered, "I plan to make you see stars, pet."

Buffy's knees were failing spectacularly in their bid to keep her upright and Spike tightened his arms around her, pulling her tight against his body as she whispered back, "St..stars?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured against her neck, sending delicious shivers down her spine as her stomach, rather loudly, voiced its displeasure at being ignored yet again. Spike chuckled against her collarbone. "Guess we'd better go, luv, 'fore your stomach starts snackin' on your spleen."

XX

XXXX

XX

They were walking down the street eating cheesy chili fries that they'd gotten from a street vendor. It wasn't typical as first dates went, and sure, they'd done this very same thing a dozen times before, but somehow this time was different because they were together, like **together** together, and Buffy didn't think she'd ever been happier in her life.

Spike was just as happy and apparently they were wearing their newfound love like sandwich boards painted in eye popping neon colors… with glitter… because everyone that passed into their orbit left it wearing warm smiles.

Spike popped his last cheese covered fry into his mouth then dropped the pasteboard dish into the nearest trash can. He reached out and wrapped his arm around Buffy's shoulders, tugging her close as he leaned down to brush his lips against her hair. "Love you, kitten. Have I said that recently?"

Buffy giggled around the fry in her mouth and mumbled, "You might have mentioned it… once or twice… in the last ten minutes."

They walked on quietly as Buffy finished off her fries then Spike asked, "What now, luv? We could see a film, have some coffee, go for a walk in the park, or something else. What do you fancy?"

She looked up at him shyly. "I know you're large with the whole 'woo the girl' thing, but I really don't need the wooage, Spike. I'm fully wooed and now I'm full of food, so…"

He smirked at her, his eyebrow lifting. "You want to go back to the flat?"

She smiled as a slight blush crept up her cheeks. "Only if my saying yes doesn't make you see me as Slutty McSlutpants even though I'm so totally a girl that falls into bed with a guy on the first date… as long as the guy is you."

XX

XXXX

XX

The apartment door flew open with a bang and they stumbled through, joined at the lips. They bumped against the table, sending it slightly askew as Spike kicked the door closed. He spun Buffy and pressed her up against the door as his lips traveled down her neck, lightly sucking and nipping. Buffy's fingers were digging almost painfully into his arms as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, grinding against the hardness behind the buttons of his jeans.

He groaned low in his throat and pressed his forehead into her shoulder as he panted, "Better slow this down, kitten, or it'll be over 'fore it starts." He raised his head and smiled as he dragged his tongue over his kiss swollen lips. "Good thing I took the edge off earlier or it would've been over already."

Buffy's eyes followed the pink tip of his tongue as she breathed out, "Took the edge off?"

His face turned that adorable shade of pink again as he dropped his gaze to her shoulder and mumbled, "Yeah… had a wank in the shower… thinkin' 'bout you in those yoga pants… and me takin' 'em off you."

Buffy giggled and he raised his eyes back to hers. "So I'm not the only one who fantasizes in the shower. Except mine involve shorts, not yoga pants… and I'm not sure your drumming stool could hold both of us."

Spike leered, curling his tongue behind his teeth. "Knew that shower head was for more than just sore muscles."

Buffy blushed and dropped her head, whispering against his shoulder. "Its name is Little Spike."

Spike's hands cupped her bottom as he ground himself against her heat with a low, "'Bout to show you what the real Little Spike is capable of, pet."

Buffy threw her head back and panted as she clutched at his arms, "Not little… soooo not little."

Spike lifted one hand and pushed away from the door, using the other hand to keep Buffy pressed against him. Her arms slid around his neck and she held on as he carried her toward the bedroom, nibbling on her neck the whole way. He grasped the hem of her sundress and pulled it up as she lowered her legs and slid down his body. He lifted it over her head then dropped the dress on the floor before he stepped back and just gazed at her. "Lovely. So beautiful."

He stepped close and trailed his fingertips lightly down her neck and across her collarbones, sending shivers all through her. He slipped the straps of her bra down over her shoulders, brushing feather light kisses from her neck down to the valley between her breasts as he dropped to his knees in front of her. He looked up at her with a wicked twinkle in his eye as his mouth settled on the front clasp, easily releasing it using only his tongue and teeth. The silk fell away from her, sliding down her arms and floating unheeded to the floor as his hands settled over her breasts, lightly squeezing.

Her hands had drifted to his shoulders and were presently tangled in the hair on the back of his head as he pulled an erect nipple into his mouth, biting down gently. "God! Spike!" He released it with a quiet pop and moved over to the other breast, giving it the same attention as she arched toward him, trying to get more contact. His fingers slipped under the elastic of her underwear, slowly sliding them down as his mouth left her breast and trailed hot kisses down her stomach. He stopped to dip his tongue into her belly button then grasped her hips and turned her.

He looked up at her, his blue eyes darkened with lust as he pushed lightly, causing her to step back until her knees hit the edge of the bed. "Lie down, pet, and get comfy. Want to taste you."

Her eyes widened as she stammered, "You want to… Oh!" She shook her head. "You don't have to… isn't that kind of gross?"

Spike maneuvered her gently until she was lying across his bed with her backside just barely hanging over the edge. He shuffled closer, lifting one leg and brushing light kisses up her thigh as he placed it on his shoulder. "Not gross, pet." He lifted the other leg, placing it on his other shoulder, then dipped his head, licking her from bottom to top. "Delicious."

Buffy's back arched as he slipped his hands underneath her and lifted slightly, angling her for easier penetration by his wickedly talented tongue. He kissed and nipped and licked and sucked until she was nothing but a trembling puddle of Buffy goo on his black comforter, her fingers clenched tightly in his hair. She threw her head back and screamed through the first orgasm she'd ever experienced that wasn't self administered. It was quickly followed by a second as his lips wrapped around her pulsing nub and sucked it against his teeth.

He lapped at her gently as she panted harshly and clumsily untangled her fingers from his hair. Speaking was out of the question at the moment because her brain was currently unable to form any kind of coherent thought other than 'Wow. Much wow.'

Spike stood up and stepped back as her eyes lazily followed him. He quickly divested himself of his clothing, smiling as her eyes widened when he stepped back toward the bed, the evidence of his arousal on full display as it jutted out proudly in front of him. He bent down and lifted her, laying her in the middle of his bed, then he climbed in after her, settling the head of his cock lightly against her swollen entrance as he propped himself up on his hands.

Her eyes were still wide and she looked slightly frightened as he asked, "You sure 'bout this, luv? 'Cause I'll wait if you're not. Lots of other things we could do." She wanted to speak, she really did, but all she could do was gaze up into his eyes and nod as she lifted her hands and twined her fingers into his hair again. She pulled him down into a kiss, tasting herself on his lips as he started pressing forward, giving her more than enough time to adjust to his size as he slowly slid into her.

He reached her barrier and stopped, his jaw clenched in concentration as he used every last shred of willpower he possessed to keep from slamming into her heat. "God, so tight, Buffy. So good." He took a few deep breaths as he nuzzled against her lips. "This might hurt a bit, luv, but I'll try to make it quick."

She nodded again and, because her brain had come partially back online, whispered, "I'm okay, Spike. Go ahead."

He dipped his head and took a nipple into his mouth, teasing it until she was gasping, then he surged forward, seating himself fully. Buffy yelped and froze, her fingernails digging into his biceps as a bright bolt of pain shot through her. Spike slid his arms underneath her and pulled her tight against his chest as he murmured into her hair. "I'm sorry, Buffy. Just breathe and it'll stop hurtin' in a bit." She bit her lip and nodded as one tear tracked slowly down her cheek.

She was full, completely and totally, her formerly untouched womanhood stretched almost to its limit, but the pain was slowly subsiding and being replaced by a building warmth and a fluttering tension as Spike moved, pulling out a few inches before sliding back in. But even as good as it was feeling, she still felt like she needed something… more… so she lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist and raising her hips to meet his gentle thrusts.

Spike's eyes rolled back in his head as her movement changed the angle and he was able to go deeper. He lifted up and looked down at where they were joined, watching himself disappear then reappear as his thrusts sped up. He slid one hand between them, working Buffy's nub as her hands clenched on his shoulders and she rocked with him, another earth shattering orgasm just around the corner. Her eyes popped open and she let out a cry of frustration and need when he suddenly stopped. "What's wrong? Why'd you stop?"

Spike was trying his damndest not to move. He was close and any movement at all would send him right over the edge. He grit his teeth and glanced down at his naked cock, half buried inside her, just below where his fingertips rested on her throbbing nub. "No condom, pet. Forgot to buy the bloody things." He smiled ruefully. "See? Crap at planning. Bought wine and flowers to seduce you then went and forgot to buy the soddin' condoms."

Buffy groaned and shifted her hips, trying to use her legs to get him moving again. "I was a virgin until a little while ago, so you're not gonna catch anything from me."

Spike's eyes widened in horror and he stammered, "No! That's not what I… I know that… and you'll not catch anything from me, either, I give you my word. Just don't think we're ready for kids yet, yeah? So we should stop."

Buffy shook her head and whispered, "Like hell," then reached down and grabbed a double handful of Spike butt, pulling him down as she lifted her hips to meet him.

"Christ!" Spike shouted, spilling himself inside her four thrusts later with her scream of ecstasy ringing in his ears. He collapsed on top of her, supporting a good portion of his weight on his elbows as she breathed in great whooping gasps beneath him. "Bloody hell, Buffy."

She wrapped her arms around him and smiled the smile of the fully sated. "I second that. Bloody hell."

Spike chuckled into the pillow under her head then gently pulled out of her and rolled off to the side, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to settle her back against his chest. "That sounded a bit weird in your accent, luv."

She giggled and nodded. "Yeah, but it had to be said. That was amazing, Spike, even better than I imagined."

"Sorry I hurt you, kitten."

"I'm okay… a little sore, but okay. Um…" She turned her head, burying her face in the pillow, and murmured, "Was it… all right for you?"

Spike rolled her onto her back then cupped her cheek in his palm as he leaned down to brush a kiss across her lips. "It was fantastic, pet. And you grabbin' my bum all forceful like? Quite the little vixen, you are. Loved that bit; you takin' what you wanted. Can't wait to see what else you'll do to me."

Buffy blushed right to the roots of her hair and turned her head, closing her eyes as she whispered, "I don't know how to do anything, Spike, and you know how to do everything. You've been having sex since you were fourteen and…"

Spike turned her head back towards him and waited until she opened her eyes, "And I'll still need to learn what pleases **you**, Buffy. And while I'm doin' that, you'll learn what pleases me. We've got the rest of our lives to learn 'bout each other, pet, and 'fore you know it, I'll be putty in your lovely little hands." He leaned down for a kiss. "And next time, I'll remember the bleedin' condoms."

Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him over to lie on top of her. "Don't need condoms, Spike. I'm on the pill. Have been since I was seventeen for cramps."

Spike smiled brightly, "Good to know," then his face melted into a leer as he nodded over his shoulder at the bedroom door. "Feel up to learnin' bout shaggin' in the bath, or are you too sore?"

"The hot water will help with that." Buffy smiled as she slid out from under him then pulled him to his feet beside the bed. She leaned up to kiss him before leading him out of the room. "I have a feeling that my life is about to get a lot more educational."


	8. Chapter 8 - Idiot

Oblivious

Chapter Eight – Idiot

*Five years later*

Spike paced around the room, his fingers twitching at his shirt and hair as he muttered under his breath, "Bloody hell, I can't do this. I'll make a fool of myself, I know I will."

Oz looked up at him as he strummed a few chords on the acoustic guitar he'd found leaning in a corner. "Spike." Spike acted like he hadn't heard and just kept pacing back and forth across the small room. Oz set the guitar aside and spoke a little louder. "Spike!"

Spike stuttered to a halt and turned nervous eyes on the diminutive guitarist. "What?"

Oz grinned and nodded toward the couch along the wall. "Sit."

Spike dropped onto the couch with a whump then lay down and propped his booted feet up on the arm, fingers still nervously twitching at an artfully placed rip in his shirt. "Okay, Doc, let me have it."

Oz smirked. "What's got your panties in a bunch, man? It's not like we haven't played here hundreds of times."

Spike sighed, "I know… 's just… the last time I was here…"

Oz nodded. "Cecily. I remember."

Spike closed his eyes and forced his fingers to stop twitching. "You know everybody in town's gonna be here. All the people that witnessed my evisceration at the hands of that… that…"

"Complete bitch who didn't know a great thing when she had it?" Buffy stepped further into the room, letting the door hang open for a few seconds as she smiled at the screams and declarations of undying love coming from the gaggle of groupies that were being held back by the record company's security team. She let them get an eyeful of Oz and Spike for a few more seconds then gave them a little wave and shut the door. Spike's smile lit the whole room as he sat up and reached for her hand, pulling her down onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a solid kiss on his lips. "She's here, you know. Saw her in the crowd on my way backstage."

Spike's fingers were twitching again, this time in Buffy's hair as he crushed her to his chest. "Bugger. The one person on earth that I could happily live the rest of my life without ever seein' again is here. Perfect."

There was a sharp rap on the door that led to the stage and they heard Lorne's muffled voice shout, "Ten minutes, cupcakes! Ten minutes!"

Oz got to his feet and moved toward the stage door. "I'll go round up the guys. See you out there, Spike."

Spike nodded miserably then dropped his head to Buffy's shoulder. "I can't do it, luv. I can't go out there. I'll make a bloody fool of myself, I know it."

Buffy leaned back and lifted Spike's chin then smiled when their eyes met. "You've played concerts all over the world in front of thousands and thousands of people. This is just the Bronze. There can't be more than a couple hundred people out there right now and most of them have seen you play dozens of times."

Spike groaned and dropped his head to Buffy's shoulder again. "I know that, pet, but God! Why'd I let Lorne talk me into comin' back here? He couldn't have picked some other dozy little town for the bleedin' video? Like most of our fans would even know the difference! Home town crowd my pale arse."

Buffy giggled and started nibbling on Spike's neck. "Okay, how about this… instead of me standing backstage like usual, I'll sit out in the club, somewhere close to the stage where you can see me. Just focus on me – pretend you and the guys are just at sound check and the only people in the building are me and the roadies. Would that help?"

Spike pulled back and gave her a weak smile. "Might do, kitten, might do. God, you're amazing, Buffy. I'm so lucky to have you."

Buffy smiled back. "Yeah, you are, and believe me, Cecily is gonna feel like a complete turd when she gets a load of you out there doing your thing."

Spike groaned again. "Maybe I should just ask Everett to have her escorted out of the building. Don't know how I'm gonna react to seein' her again, luv. Especially if she gives me that snooty, stick up her arse, I'm too good for you look."

Buffy grinned. "Well, if it's any consolation, Willow told me that she's not all Miss High and Mighty anymore. Her parents went to prison for tax evasion and the government took everything so she had to marry the idiot that had knocked her up. They live in those nasty little apartments at the edge of town… with his mother." Spike's eyes went wide as Buffy's grin got just a little bigger. "And she had to get a job. Guess where?"

A slow grin split Spike's face. "You're shittin' me! She's workin' at the Doublemeat? Miss 'I Don't Wear Anything That Isn't Designer' is slingin' burgers in a hideous orange polyester uniform?"

Buffy laughed, "Yep. And they changed the hats. The cow is bigger now and has been joined by a chicken."

Spike's laughter rang out through the room just as Lorne opened the stage door and poked his head in. "It's show time, Buttercup. Get that delectable little ass moving!"

Buffy stood up, pulling Spike up with her as she winked at Lorne. "His delectable little ass is all mine, so don't make me kick yours all over Sunnydale… 'cause I will. This man's taken."

Buffy slipped her hand down Spike's back and pinched the aforementioned body part, causing Spike to squeak in a manly fashion as he jumped toward the band's manager. "Oi! Gotta sit on that, you know! Don't be bruisin' the talent!"

Lorne laughed and shook his finger at Buffy. "Better watch it, pumpkin. Wouldn't want the record company to sue you for damaging their biggest money maker."

Buffy threw Lorne a teasing grin just as Spike spun and pulled her into a tight hug, planting a possessive kiss on her smirking lips. "Love you, kitten."

"Love you too, Spike. Break a leg!"

Spike smiled and darted through the door, snagging his sticks off the table on the way out. He stood behind Oz twirling them in his fingers as Lorne walked onto the stage and waited for the cheering and cat calls to die down. Buffy closed the stage door and started for the door leading out to the main part of the club just as Lorne announced the band. "Back from their whirlwind European tour, please welcome to the stage… Dingoes Ate My Baby!"

XXXX

Spike caught Buffy's eye again as he pounded out the last few beats of the last song on the set list. The song ended in a loud cacophony of guitar chords and cymbal crashes then he jumped to his feet and raised his sticks triumphantly over his head as the crowd went wild, screaming as they surged toward the stage. The beefy security guys had been getting one hell of a workout all night trying to hold them back and Buffy smirked when half a dozen roadies jogged out from backstage to reinforce the front line as the band made their way backstage.

Apparently Dingoes was a lot more popular in Sunnydale than Buffy remembered. She'd never seen so many people crammed into the Bronze before. The place had to be over limit fire code wise and she was suddenly immensely glad that the band didn't use any pyro during club shows. Oh, they blew up a hell of a lot of stuff during open air stadium shows, but after they'd heard about that club that had burned down, trapping most of the crowd inside, they'd stopped using anything flammable in enclosed spaces.

Buffy sipped her fruity drink as the crowd chanted for an encore, nodding her thanks again to the two meaty body guards standing protectively next to her table. Being the wife of a world famous rock star certainly did have its perks. She leaned forward, peeking around Randy's immense bulk as she scanned the edges of the crowd, seeing a few familiar faces from her Sunnydale days, but nobody that she really cared to speak to.

The band was currently backstage trying to decide which song to play for an encore. They never had one worked out beforehand so they played rock – paper – scissors until someone had won three times then that person got to pick the song.

Suddenly the stage lights and club lights went out, leaving a lone spotlight aimed at the microphone in the center of the stage. A roadie ran in from the side and plunked a stool down in the center of the circle of light then picked up the microphone and ran back off to the almost deafening cheering of the crowd. Buffy perked up and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. This was new. Usually the band just bolted onto the stage, yelling and carrying on as they moved to their usual positions.

Her eyes went wide when Spike strode into the circle of light carrying his favorite acoustic guitar. It was the one he used when he was writing songs and she'd never seen him use it during a show before. He moved off the drum kit for two or three songs a show, switching places with Oz, but when he did, he used his '56 Fender Strat.

He sat down on the stool and set the guitar strap over his shoulder then held up his hand until the crowd quieted down. "All right, Sunnydale. I'm gonna do somethin' a little different tonight." The crowd started cheering and he held up his hand again. The cheering cut off almost immediately. "I don't have this thing hooked up to an amp and JoJo took the mic so I'm gonna have to ask you lot to bear with me and try to keep it down, yeah?" The crowd cheered for a few seconds then the room got so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop.

"A fair lot of you know me from years back, and if you know me then you know my best mate, Buffy." There were a handful of whoops and someone whistled, then the room got quiet again. Spike took a deep breath and looked over toward Buffy's table. She knew he probably couldn't see her because of the spot light aimed directly at him, but she smiled anyway. Spike smiled then tilted his head. "Randy, could you?"

Buffy looked up at Randy in surprise when he lightly grasped her elbow, tugging her off her chair as he nodded toward the stage. "Come on, Mrs. Giles." The crowd parted like the Red Sea as Randy led a stunned Buffy to the front of the stage. She squeaked when he wrapped his huge hands around her hips then lifted her up like she weighed absolutely nothing, lightly setting her down on Spike's right side.

Spike nodded his thanks then reached out and clasped her hand in his. "She's been my best mate since we were kids, been my rock through a lot of painful experiences, and for the longest time, I thought that's all she was… a mate… a friend." Buffy's face was burning and she was sure that her cheeks were going to catch fire any second now as Spike kept going. "It took me a while, bein' the bloody thick git that I am, to actually see her as the beautiful, sexy woman she is, but I finally did. And now she's my beautiful, sexy wife and I'm the luckiest bloke on the planet."

There was a chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles that made Buffy want to crawl under the stage, but Spike held her hand tightly as he turned a little on the stool to face her. "I know she deserves so much more than me, but I have her love and I'm thankful every day for that. Tonight I'm going to sing a new song that I wrote especially for her… to tell her how much I love her and how grateful I am that I finally saw what had been in front of my face for years." He looked up at Buffy and although his next words were spoken to the crowd, she felt like they were only for her. "I hope you like it."

He let go of her hand and smiled as he started playing the most beautiful song Buffy had ever heard. She stood transfixed, watching his fingers play over the strings and his lips move as he sang straight from his heart. Buffy felt tears spill onto her cheeks and the crowd fell away until they were the only two people in the world. She could practically see the words as they floated through the air, each one settling into her heart and filling it to bursting with love for the beautiful man sitting in front of her.

She didn't even realize that the song had ended until the crowd started cheering. Spike stood and slipped the strap over his head then handed the guitar off to a roadie before sweeping her into his arms just as the lights came up. The cheering got exponentially louder as Spike captured her lips in a heated kiss, bending her back over his arm.

Anya Jenkins – who had never in her entire life been accused of being even the tiniest bit emotional – stood in the crowd with tears pouring down her face. She turned to the woman standing beside her and said in her usual blunt and to the point fashion. "That could've been you up there, Cec. He was yours and you threw him away. You're a complete idiot."

Cecily roughly swiped the tears off her own face as she watched Spike scoop Buffy up and carry her offstage, their lips still fused together. "I know, Anya. I know."


End file.
